Grief captures me,
One who is dead but still alive,
A zombie craving to consume,
to seize, to raze.
Infecting minds with a foul brew,
with summons of wolf cries.
There are no winners in this game,
Unseen players in the shadows.
It's like gasping for water and choking on air.
The infection spreads to every depth,
of your being,
of my being,
of their being.
The zombie storms, relentless and cruel,
Caring not for fields of nodding tulips.
Clad in a familiar mask of deception,
You resemble her and echo her voice,
But you are not her.
You slaughter, demolish, and devour,
swallowing souls whole.
Your infection ripples for miles,
Altering smiles until
All that remains is a hollow shell,
Seas of hollow shells.